Caleb Engstrom is old enough for you to buy him a drink, but young enough for you to still feel guilty about it. This 21-year-old Iowa City boy is living the dream. He dropped out of the University of Iowa (but don’t worry, kiddies, he says he’ll probably go back),…
The turntable scene here in the PHX seems pretty fucking fickle sometimes, as DJs repeatedly relocate their record-spinning gigs from club to club — or pull the plug on them entirely — faster than they can send out notices on MySpace. In the past year alone, local scenesters have been…
Second only to the fabled Sports Illustrated cover jinx is the curse of Winona Ryder, whereby most musicians who date the actress — Dave Pirner, Adam Duritz, Evan Dando, etc. — subsequently watch their careers crumble. Perhaps Jersey singer-songwriter and former Winona boy-toy Pete Yorn can buck that trend. His…
Of all the labels to be unfairly saddled with, the oxymoronic “Christian punk” tag has dogged this Pacific Northwest trio for more than a decade. Sure, these fine, not-so-young lads don’t spew expletives like hardcore legends Black Flag, nor do they wallow in sexual depravity like punk godfather Iggy Pop,…
1. The Format, Dog Problems (Nettwerk Records) 2. Rise Against, Sufferer and the Witness (Geffen Records) 3. Thom Yorke, The Eraser (XL Recordings) 4. Hinder, Extreme Behavior (Umvd Labels) 5. Panic! At the Disco, A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out (Decaydance) 6. The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, Don’t You Fake It…
Hey, Joey, baby, it’s me — Johnette. I know I haven’t called in a really long time, but I wanted you to know that in case you never heard that one song, I’m still not angry anymore. In fact, I’ve been feeling pretty content lately (at least that’s what my…
Who ever thought of having vocal harmonies in heavy metal? Well, System of a Down, Evanescence, and Lacuna Coil, for starters, but the debut CD from Eyes Set to Kill proves that you don’t have to be innovative to be sonically savvy. The core of ESTK — 17-year-old lead vocalist…
Twenty-one-year-old Patch, the sole member and producer of Die Kranken Katzchen (“The Sick Kitten”), files herself under “Industrial/Goth/Techno” on her MySpace page, and has also likened herself to “a female Nine Inch Nails.” But the atmospheric compositions on Transude are way more experimental than anything Trent Reznor would dare do…
Inventing punk was a dirty job. You had to make up new rules for the guitar, cram your hairy appendages into ladies’ pumps and lingerie, get hooked on hard drugs, and squeeze Howlin’ Wolf and the Shangri-Las into the same three minutes. That routine shortened the lives of two New…
In 1961, fledgling jazz label Impulse garnered considerable out-of-the-gate clout by landing an exclusive contract with John Coltrane. It was a brilliant coup because, at that time, the saxophonist was compiling the finest working band of the 1960s. The reed giant was about to take his new quartet with him…
Mr. Lif’s sophomore full-length is brilliantly structured to be a metaphor for the battle people endure to be heard. Mo’ Mega moves from a chaotic first half in which the Boston rapper’s frustrated voice cranes through the rubble of El-P’s production (every bit as suffocating as it was when Cannibal…
Thom Yorke’s first individual outing is about what you’d expect — a glitchy, primarily electronic excursion that mirrors Radiohead’s most recent work. The Eraser’s dour compositions conjure the icy, detached vibe of Kid A and Amnesiac, and were it not for Yorke’s beguiling melodies and consistently compelling fey falsetto, it…
As the U.K.’s most infectious punks, the Buzzcocks may one day be forced to take the fall for every lame-ass pop-punk band this side of Blink-182. But the Buzzcocks’ original blend of over-caffeinated pop and punk was always more adventurous than that. And more legitimately punk. While everyone from Hüsker…
Regardless of whether it’s a fair comparison, Muse, Britain’s second-favorite semi-atmospheric sensation, will always be the Jan Brady to Radiohead’s Marcia. In fact, it’s nearly impossible to read a Muse album review — including this one — that doesn’t mention the band’s sincere appreciation for, or outright thievery from, Thom…
Hailing from the shores of the California desert’s Salton Sea, a leviathan fed by agricultural runoff and ringed by crumbling ghost resorts, Throw Rag embodies a potent combination of punk and Podunk. The six-man band’s punk ‘n’ roll and boogie-core, salted with carnivalesque psychedelia, rips harder than almost any current…
As DJ BT, Los Angeles-based turntablist and electronics whiz kid Brian Transeau is known as one of the pioneers of trance music. He’s also credited with innovative techniques like the stutter edit and time correction, which tie samples together in mathematical rhythms. As a producer, DJ BT has mixed up…
Come within 10 feet of Marshall Chapman and she’ll likely tell you a story — which is not all that surprising since Nashville, Tennessee, is nothing if not a town full of stories, and “the tall girl” has called the Music City home for nearly four decades. Chapman might tell…
Like Popeye and Jonathan Richman, Steve Forbert is what he is. In 28 years of playing sun-dappled heartland rock with the occasional sidelong glance of cynicism, he’s only gotten to sound more like his own earnest self. But then, you don’t expect a lot of shape-shifting from a Mississippi kid…
Psalm One’s The Death of Frequent Flyer is an uneven but compelling mix of pure rhyme skills and casual songwriting. One of the best songs on the 14-track disc is “Rapper Girls,” a souled-out attack on untalented female MCs that wraps around Psalm One’s chorus, “This is for my rapper…
Whatever your politics, you have to admit that the title of Impeach My Bush, the third album by Berlin-based raunch-rap mistress Peaches, is a joke whose time has come. (Titles might be Peaches’ true talent — see also 2003’s Fatherfucker.) Whether or not Impeach offers more than exemplary wordplay comes…
Kalas is Matt Pike’s new outfit, and for the Bay Area quintet’s nine-track debut he wields his ax only on a single cut (“Frozen Sun”). That’s because Pike’s primary role is that of a lead vocalist, which is kinda fucked up. Think about it: The dude from Asbestos Death, Sleep,…
Gender identity and uncomfortable intimacy are just hazy phrases for Portland’s Parenthetical Girls to knead into song. The band’s recent release, Safe as Houses, traverses themes of sex and shame from various perspectives, sung by a male (Zac Pennington) with a fragile falsetto. Surrounded by hauntingly minimal electronic pop, Pennington…
